Chapter 21: Hush

Chapter title song: "Hush" by Angie Aparo. Play it for the second section, it's hot!

Time: November 2011

September and October came and went without incident. The rest of the Glee Club was glad to see Brittany and Santana were back to their happy selves, even if they didn't know precisely why. Due to an elaborate set of rules, Brittany and Santana managed to keep their relationship a secret; they had a random interval schedule for how often they would sit together, guidelines about hand holding and hugging, and a strict no-kissing-in-public policy, with exceptions made for closets, empty locker rooms and library stacks. It became a game: Brittany would try to see how much she could get away with, and Santana would taunt her with racy text messages and short skirts. The constant flirtation made them insatiable when they finally got behind closed doors.

The hallways were deserted as Santana strutted towards her locker, not caring that second period had already begun and she was late to Spanish. She was fairly confident that Mr. Schue would overlook her tardiness since she was, after all, fluent. As she opened her locker to toss a book inside, she was surprised when someone wrapped their arms around her waist.

"Hey there, secret girlfriend…" Brittany whispered into her ear.

Santana glanced up and down the hallway, relieved to discover it was deserted. She closed her locker and turned around, smiling.

"Hey," she purred, wrapping her arms around Brittany. She scanned the hallway once again before planting a kiss on Brittany's lips.

"In the hallway!" Brittany whispered in surprise. "That's against the rules!" she said with a playful grin.

"Mmm… I can't help that my girlfriend is smoking hot and makes me want to rip off all her clothes," Santana purred as she ran her hands down Brittany's sides.

Brittany undulated her hips into Santana's, pressing them up against the lockers and Santana felt her pulse quicken. She looked up and down the hallway a third time before taking Brittany by the wrist. "Closet. Now," she demanded.

Brittany giggled and trotted behind Santana as they scampered down the hall a hundred yards. Santana flung the closet door open, swinging Brittany inside and shutting it behind them, turning on the light.

"You're so fucking hot," Santana panted, glancing Brittany over before ravaging Brittany's mouth with her own.

Brittany met Santana's intensity, pressing her hips into Santana's and running her hands over Santana's ass. Santana groped Brittany's breasts, too pent up to devote any skill into making her movements sensual. She had just pressed her thigh up between Brittany's legs when the closet door swung open. Three shrieks rang out and Santana jumped away from Brittany as fast as she could. Brittany teetered at the sudden divide of their bodies as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve.

"Oh goodness!" their intruder sputtered, dumbfounded.

The girls looked at the open door, meeting a pair of huge, stunned brown eyes. Santana's heart beat a mile a minute.

"Cleaning supplies!" Miss Pillsbury said in shocked explanation for her intrusion.

No one moved.

"Which kind do you want?" Brittany said after a tense moment.

"Bleach," Emma gasped, eyes still wide.

Brittany turned around to the shelf, picked up a bottle of bleach and handed it to Emma. Emma accepted it but didn't move.

Santana's whole body was screaming for Miss Pillsbury to shut the door as the three women glanced back and forth at each other for another moment.

Finally Emma took a breath, collecting herself. "My door is always open if you want to chat."

"Thanks, Miss Pillsbury," Brittany stammered, glancing at Santana.

Emma forced a smile. "Ladies," she said with a nod as she took a step backwards.

Brittany reached for the doorknob and closed the door. They heard Emma's heels start to click down the hallway.

"Oh. My. God," Santana said, putting a hand over her face. She couldn't believe they had been caught. How could she have been so careless? "She won't say anything, will she?" she asked in a panic.

Brittany shook her head. "No. It's her job to keep secrets."

Santana hoped Brittany was right. She listened until she could no longer hear Emma's heels clicking in the hall. "We should… we should get to class," she stammered, opening the door. "I'll see you at Glee club."

It was a Friday night in early December. Santana was sitting on the couch reading a book in the dark living room in front of a fire. She heard stilettos clicking on the hardwood floor behind her and looked up, startled. Brittany was grinning at her as she walked across the room.

"Jeez," Santana gasped, putting her hand to her chest to settle her heartbeat. "I didn't hear the door."

Brittany was silent, her heels muted by the area rug as she drew closer to the couch. She plucked the book from Santana's hand and tossed it on the floor, climbing onto the couch and straddling Santana. "Your parents aren't home," she husked.

"They went to the office Christmas par-"

Brittany's lips cut Santana off as she undulated against her, pressing their torsos together. Santana inhaled through her nose, caught off guard but welcoming the feel of Brittany's tongue against her own. She slid her arms around Brittany's waist, feeling the curves she loved so much. Brittany pushed Santana's hands away, pressing her shoulders back into the couch.

"You've been teasing me all day," Brittany said in a low voice. "I didn't like it."

"Really?" Santana murmured coyly. "Because it seems like you kind of liked it." She pressed up into Brittany, kissing her again.

Brittany pushed her back again. "It was very naughty."

"You never complained about that before," Santana taunted, leaning up to kiss Brittany again.

Brittany stopped Santana's lips, pressing her finger against Santana's mouth firmly. "No talking," she warned, staring down at Santana. Santana nipped at Brittany's palm. "Hey!" Brittany cried. "I mean it." Her tone was dark and sultry. She leaned into Santana's neck, finger still on Santana's mouth as she whispered, "Tonight I'm in charge."

Santana felt herself shiver with excitement. She loved when Brittany took charge. Normally Brittany was so gentle and sweet; seeing her aggressive side drove Santana wild. She tilted her hips up, pressing into Brittany, eager for whatever Brittany had in store.

"No," Brittany admonished, pressing her whole hand firmly over Santana's mouth and forcing Santana's head back into the couch cushions. Santana moaned into Brittany's hand, eyes rolling into the back of her head. Brittany began to grind her hips down on Santana, pressing her breasts against Santana's collarbone. She removed her hand from Santana's mouth and ran it up behind Santana's head through her hair where she grasped it in a fist. She moved her mouth to Santana's neck, planting firm kisses in a line and then slowly licking up the trail she had just made with her lips. Santana shivered.

"So hot," Santana whispered.

Brittany raised her lips to Santana's ear, grazing them across the lobe before whispering, "How many times do I have to tell you not to talk?" She bit Santana's ear before sitting back to look at Santana's expression, tossing her long blonde locks over her shoulder. Santana's eyes were dark and fixed on Brittany in arrant lust. The only sound in the room was the fire crackling.

Santana was practically shaking with excitement when Brittany whispered, "Take off your panties," as she slid off Santana's lap.

Santana hitched her skintight dress up to her waist and pulled her panties down, flicking them onto the rug. Brittany licked her lips as she pulled Santana forward on the cushion and spread her legs.

Kneeling on the floor, Brittany leaned forward and bit down on Santana's lower lip, pulling it slowly outward. With her hands, she spread Santana's legs wide, exposing her glistening center. She dragged her nails across Santana's trembling thighs, then brushed up and down Santana's sex with two digits, coating them in arousal as Santana whimpered. She brought her fingers up to her mouth and sucked.

"Somebody's ready for me," she hummed.

Santana shivered and nodded, panting as she closed her eyes and tilted her head back against the couch. Moments later a flat, wet tongue slid across her sex and she couldn't help but cry out. She gripped the couch as Brittany's tongue picked up pace until it was flitting furiously across Santana's clit. She was panting and digging her heels into the upholstery that covered the baseboard of the couch. Slowly she released her grip with one hand and brought it to the back of Brittany's head.

"No touching," Brittany whispered as she swatted Santana's hand away from the back of her head. She stood up and Santana winced. When Brittany made no move to keep going, Santana reached to touch herself. Before her hand met her dripping center, Brittany swatted Santana's wrist away.

"No touching. Let me," Brittany hummed.

Santana surrendered and felt a puff of air on her face as Brittany straddled her. She reached out to grasp Brittany's waist, and Brittany allowed it as she nipped at Santana's neck. Santana tried not to moan as Brittany fixed her lips to a spot on her neck and sucked the flesh into her mouth. She cried out as Brittany marked her; while she had previously thought marking was trashy and had grown angry when boys tried, she loved when Brittany did it. Even if their relationship was a secret, Santana was proud of how she'd been able to surrender whenever they made love. The marks reminded her of that.

Her first marking complete, Brittany slid her hand up Santana's thigh. Santana tried to steady her breath as Brittany dipped a single digit inside her. She bit her lip and undulated into Brittany, trying to get more friction.

Brittany continued her slow ministrations as she bent down in, placing her lips on the soft skin next to Santana's collarbone. She placed three kisses in a circle before attaching her lips again. She inhaled and sucked the skin in, hard against her teeth and tongue, marking Santana again. Santana gasped as Brittany released her mouth, smiling. Santana knew she would enjoy that bruise for days to come, seeing it in the mirror when she stepped out of the shower or got ready for bed, its purple hue reminding her of this moment. Brittany pulled back and looked into Santana's eyes as she pushed two fingers inside. Santana exhaled and slid down the cushions into Brittany's fingers.

As Brittany quickened her pace, Santana felt her jaw go slack, a sign she was close to release.

"You're so close," Brittany purred.

Santana nodded and furrowed her brow as Brittany pumped her fingers in and out, varying her pace to keep Santana forever in a state of torment.

"Do you want me to let you come?" Brittany hummed into Santana's ear.

Santana nodded, whimpering.

Brittany inserted a third finger and Santana's brows rose as she inhaled sharply.

"Who's making you feel so good?" Brittany teased into Santana's ear.

"You," Santana gasped, trembling.

"Who?" Brittany taunted.

"Brittany!" Santana whimpered.

Brittany curled her fingers and pressed her thumb into Santana's clit.

Santana shrieked, her insides crushing Brittany's fingers and her back arching off the couch as her head tilted back in ecstasy. Brittany kissed her neck as she shook from head to toe. When Santana's body started to relax, Brittany stilled her hand and hummed into Santana's skin. Santana wrapped her arms around Brittany's neck. Brittany slowly extracted her hand from Santana's sex as Santana shuddered into Brittany's neck.

Brittany scooped Santana's limp frame up and pulled her down onto the rug, placing her head on a pillow. She brushed the hair from Santana's face, watching the flames cast their dancing light over Santana's closed eyelids. She simply watched her as Santana's chest rose and fell for a few minutes.

Santana finally regained her ability to speak coherently. "I love when you do that, Britt," she groaned, exhausted. She opened her eyes halfway, gazing at Brittany hovering next to her. "It's so hot."

Brittany wiggled her eyebrows at Santana, who lay splayed on the floor, dress bunched around her waist. "You like when I ambush you with sex?" she grinned.

Santana nodded and shivered. Brittany pulled a blanket over them as she snuggled into Santana's side and wrapped her arm around her, holding her drained body close. Santana closed her eyes again, breathing in the smell of Brittany's skin.

"Can I give you your Christmas present now?" Brittany asked, softness replacing the coyness in her voice.

"That wasn't it?" Santana smiled between deep breaths.

Brittany chuckled. "That was part of it."

"If the other part is anything like the first part… I think I might need to rest a little while first," said Santana, eyes still closed.

Brittany let out a soft giggle. "No, it's something you can unwrap," she reassured.

"You didn't have to get me anything, Britt…" Santana sighed, still in a euphoric daze.

"I wanted to," Brittany shrugged.

Santana grinned and said nothing. She watched as Brittany got up and took a small tissue paper package out of her purse. She brought it over and sat back down, placing it on Santana's stomach. With great effort, Santana propped herself up on the pillow and unwrapped the tissue paper. Inside was a necklace: a silver chain with a small treble clef dangling from it. Santana felt her heart swell.

"It's to wear instead of your Cheer necklace since we don't cheer anymore," Brittany explained.

"It's perfect, Britt," Santana said, leaning in for a kiss as Brittany took it from her hands to help her put it on.

Brittany clasped the necklace and admired the way it looked around Santana's neck. "Looks like you'll have to wear your hair down this week," she grinned as she drew her hand back from Santana's neck.

Santana put her hand up to where she knew the bruise was and smiled. "You like my hair down anyway," she giggled.

Brittany glanced up at the ceiling and pursed her lips in admission.

"Your present is upstairs," Santana said. She grunted as she rose to her knees, slipping her dress down to cover herself and smoothing her hair. No sooner had she gotten to her feet when the front door flew open, letting in a flurry of snowflakes and Santana's parents.

Santana's whole body went icy with fear and her heart beat in double-time. What would have happened if they had come home just five minutes earlier?

"Hi, mom!" Santana exclaimed in panicked animation. "Hi, dad," she said slightly less emphatically. She saw Brittany's hand dart out and grab something, hiding it under the blanket. "How was the office Christmas party?" she asked.

Dolores gave her a puzzled look. "It was lovely. Lots of good people and lots of wine."

"Hi, Dr. and Mrs. Lopez," Brittany said, waving from her seat on the carpet. Brittany always did a better job of staying calm.

"Hello, Brittany," said Antonio.

"Britt and I were going to make some cocoa and go do homework. Upstairs," Santana informed them.

"That's nice, dear," said Dolores, already walking down the hall.

Antonio hung their coats in the closet. "Have fun, girls," he said. He followed his wife down the hall into the kitchen.

Santana looked down at Brittany, eyes wide as her blood churned cold through her limbs. Brittany pulled back the blanket with a smirk, revealing Santana's panties. Santana felt sick and horrified at what had almost happened. She grabbed the underwear and blanket in one hand, taking Brittany's elbow in the other. "Upstairs," she hissed.

When they got upstairs, Santana pushed Brittany into her room and closed the door. She leaned against it in relief, gasping as she tossed the blanket and underwear in the corner. "Oh my God, Britt, that was way too close," she panted.

"Sorry…" Brittany mumbled, shrugging.

"It's not your fault… I- I should have been more careful," Santana stammered, pressing her hand to her chest, feeling how furiously her heart was still beating. "I think I'm gonna have a heart attack."

"You don't think they'd be okay with it?" Brittany asked.

Santana looked at Brittany like she was crazy. "No," she scoffed. "And definitely not if they found out that way." She couldn't seem to catch her breath. She walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge. Brittany sat next to her.

"It's ok, baby…. They didn't see," Brittany hummed, rubbing Santana's back. "We'll be more careful from now on."

Santana felt herself calm as the warmth of Brittany's hand soothed away a few of her jitters. "Definitely more careful," she agreed.

After a minute, Santana's heart had quieted and her breathing had evened out. She looked at Brittany and saw she looked nervous, as if she were afraid Santana would run away. Santana instantly wanted to reassure her. "I still want you to fuck my brains out sometimes," Santana mumbled. "Just… you know, in a bomb shelter on a deserted island."

Brittany grinned. "That sounds hot," she replied. "I could make you scream really loud."

Santana chuckled and kissed Brittany on the cheek, trying to put the incident behind her. "I want to give you your present now."

Brittany tried to contain her giddiness as Santana got up and rummaged through her sock drawer. Santana pulled out a small, red velvet box. "Merry Christmas, baby," she said, unable to contain her proud grin as she handed it to Brittany with a flourish. Brittany's eyes went wide as she opened and saw the silver plated ring with a tiny ruby set into it.

"Santana!" Brittany gasped. "Is that real?"

"Yep," Santana said, her grin growing wider.

"But it must have been really expensive!" Brittany protested.

"Not really," Santana shrugged, her smile growing more smug by the second. "It's my first Christmas present to you as my girlfriend and I wanted it to be special."

"Is that a ruby?" Brittany whispered.

"A small one, yeah," Santana nodded. "Rubies have special meaning."

"What do they mean?" Brittany asked, still in awe as she looked back and forth between the ring and Santana's face.

"They mean love, integrity, passion and promise," Santana said, her smile softening and her voice quieting. "All the things I have with you."

Brittany beamed up at her and held out her hand. Santana plucked the ring from the box and put it ring on, admiring how it graced Brittany's pale, thin finger.

Brittany smiled up at Santana. "I'll wear it even when we're not in a bomb shelter on a deserted island."

Sectionals came and went without a hitch. After that, Regionals arrived quickly. New Directions won without much effort, thanks to the solid solo performances of the Seniors and the energetic background vocals of the new underclassmen. Brittany and Santana had been selected by Mr. Schue to perform the totem show tune in their set list: a sassy duet from City of Angels called "What You Don't Know About Women." The irony wasn't lost on Brittany or Santana, and least of all Kurt, who had barely been able to contain his laughter when Mr. Schue assigned it to them. Their win at Regionals was so expected it was hard to get excited about; the real competition was at Nationals in a few months.

Santana hummed the tune of their duet as they drove back to Lima, still in their competition dresses. She absentmindedly reached for Brittany's pinky, like the old days. Brittany looked at their hands, studying them.

"Sneaking around was really fun for a while," Brittany said as though she'd been chewing on the thought for the entire drive.

Santana stopped humming and it was quiet for a minute.

"But you're always worried about getting caught. It's getting kind of old."

Santana knew where Brittany was going with this; Brittany wanted to tell people. But Santana wasn't ready. "You know we'll do it eventually, B," she hushed, tried to put off the conversation.

"When, S?" Brittany asked, suddenly impatient. "It's already February." She paused, her voice growing quiet and sad. "I feel like you're ashamed or something."

Santana glanced at her and saw Brittany looking out the passenger window, trying to hide her pout. It was her genuine pout, not the pout she used to get her way.

"Baby…" Santana started, her heart wrenching at the sadness she knew she had caused. She squeezed Brittany's pinky in hers. "I could never be ashamed of you." She wanted to make Brittany a promise, to assure her things would change. But she didn't want to make a promise she couldn't keep, or a promise that would scare her too much. "Let's just get through midterms and college applications and then we'll talk about it."

"Promise?" Brittany asked, looking back down at ring.

"Promise," said Santana, lifting her eyes back to the road. It was torture to know she was making Brittany sad. Part of her hoped Brittany would forget the promise she had just made. But she knew that wouldn't happen.